“I’ll go where I wanna go.”
Christian wanted to get Crush uninvolved. He couldn’t possibly know her whereabouts, and Raven wouldn’t want him searching the dark corners of the city. “Perhaps she went to buy her da a nice present.”
“That’s not where she went. Something’s wrong.”
Christian looked back at him. “And what makes you so certain? Dreams?”
“A gut feeling. And I’m holding you accountable.”
“It’s hardly my fault.”
Crush stepped up to him. “Anytime something bad happens to my daughter, here you are. When her mother died, there you were.”
“I saved her life.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you were there. Maybe you’re a big scoop of bad luck.”
“For feck’s sake. Get on that infernal contraption of yours and ride off into the sunset, will ya? I have errands to run.”
“I’ll call you later,” he growled, storming off. “And watch what you say about my Harley!”
Two women crossed the street and headed toward a donut shop. Christian tried to imagine where Raven might have gone, but there were a number of possibilities. She could be sitting on a random rooftop, or maybe she had fallen asleep on the train and wound up on the wrong side of the city.
He called Wyatt, and when he answered, there was singing in the background.
“Unless you’re a hot chick, Wyatt’s busy.”
“Is Raven there? Has she called?”
Wyatt laughed, but it wasn’t at Christian. Claude was finishing up a joke. “Nope. What’s the scoop?”
“She’s gone missing.”
“Did you call her?”
“She doesn’t have a phone, you eejit.”
Wyatt flapped his lips together as he sighed. “Fine. I’m on my way upstairs. I’ll look at her necklace and tell you if she’s banging another man. Sure you’re up for that, compadre?”
“She’s not wearing the necklace. She left it at the scene.”
“You two did the nasty, didn’t you? Shame, shame.”
“How much have you had to drink? I need your help, and you’re busy killing brain cells.”
Wyatt snorted. “They’ll grow back.”
Christian grimaced when a man whistled to get someone’s attention. He shut out everything except Wyatt’s drunken ramblings. “What about the tracker?”
“Good idea, Watson. Give meuno momento, por favor.”
Lights were popping on around the city, splashing color onto the dreary buildings.
After about a minute of Wyatt singing out of breath, he finally came back on. “Got it. Huh. That’s really weird.”
“What’s the address?”
“The tracker shows she hasn’t moved in almost ten hours.”
